


Friendship for Christmas, Yule, Whatever

by Perpetual Motion (perpetfic)



Category: The Dresden Files - All Media Types, The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Community: dresdenficathon, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 16:35:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2588549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perpetfic/pseuds/Perpetual%20Motion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry, Murph, a few minor explosions, and a bit of Christmas grump.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friendship for Christmas, Yule, Whatever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MK_Yujji](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MK_Yujji/gifts).



> Originally written for the Dresden Ficathon 2011.

Murphy raised her eyebrows at the candy cane hanging off the end of Harry's finger. "What the hell is that?"

"It's a candy cane, Murph," Harry said, his grin widening. "In a Christmas miracle, I made a pretty good fee, and I've decided to spread the wealth." The bulb over Murphy's head gave a sharp pop, and they were swathed in semi-darkness.

"Damnit, Dresden," she said as she reached into her desk for the box of spares she kept for exactly this reason.

"Sorry," Harry replied as he set the candy cane on the edge of Murphy's desk and climbed up to unscrew the bulb. He handed it down to Murphy, and he concentrated on holding his power in check while Murph passed him the new one. "Yule makes me spark."

"Yule? That thing on Winter Solstice?" Murphy tossed the old bulb into the trash can. "I thought you celebrated Christmas."

"I do, but all the pagans are doing the ritual thing, and it ramps up everyone."

"Pagans aren't magical. They're just kids looking for a cool religion."

"Aw, Murph, don't scrooge. Those people generally want to do good in the world. They're nice."

Murphy narrowed her eyes at him as he sat down again. "Didn't you just fight some four-headed, blood-oozing thing with two-foot fangs that one of them called up?"

"And they paid!" Harry said with a little clap. The bulb popped again, and they were in shadows again.

"For god’s sake,," Murphy muttered with a shake of her head.

"Whoops?" Dresden tried, giving an embarrassed shrug. "I'll buy you a hot chocolate?" he offered.

"Fine. Just don't blow up the espresso machine at the Starbucks." She shrugged into her coat and hat and gloves and led the way out of her office and down to the street.

It was bitterly cold outside, Chicago being true to winter form, and Harry caught a glimpse of something hard flash across Murphy's face as they passed a homeless man. "You all right, Murph?"

"The calls are starting to come in," she said as they turned the corner. "Frozen bodies, domestics, the usual holiday cheer. Everyone wants to celebrate, and they're pulling guys from my division to help with the caseload."

"What's pissing you off more, the calls or the pulls?"

"It's all pissing me off evenly." She rolled her eyes when Harry held open the door of the Starbucks, but she walked in before him because she knew he’d freeze half to death before letting her walk in after her.

"Hot chocolate makes everything better," Harry said. "Well, not everything, but you'll be warmer."

They stepped into the line. The espresso machine gave a burp, and Murphy threw Harry a look. "That wasn't me," he said. The espresso machine rattled and steam began to pour out of it.

"What'd I say, Dresden?" Murphy asked as she yanked him out of the store.

"It's not my fault!" Harry said, shaking his arm free and rubbing where she'd been grabbing him. "It's all the rituals!"

"What? They're happening right this second?"

"No, but there's a build-up while everyone prepares. You concentrate on writing your rituals and setting your circle, and it makes the power come up, you see? So even if they're not casting, they're calling up the power."

"And because you’re a freak, it all sucks into you like the world’s most ridiculous sponge."

"Well, there's a fancier way to put it, but that works." Harry took a chance and grabbed Murphy's hand and laced their arms together.

"What the hell, Dresden?" she asked, but she didn't yank away her arm or break his.

"Still owe you a hot chocolate, and there is definitely one place in this city I can make it without making things explode." Dresden led the way down the street, whistling as they walked.

"You know you being cheerful is not going to make me more cheerful, right?"

"Can't hurt," Harry replied. He gave a little skip and pretended not to notice the small smile Murphy tried to press back.

They arrived at his apartment, and he opened the door for her, grinning when she rolled her eyes again. "You're a lady," he said.

"I could break your arm right now."

"Still a lady."

She punched him in the arm as she walked inside. "Whatever."

"Make yourself comfortable, Murph," Harry said as he closed the door and shed his coat and hat, keeping on his fingerless gloves. Murphy dropped on the couch and raised her eyebrows at the fire.

"Isn't it dangerous to leave that going?"

"No worse than running out with something in the oven." Harry walked into the kitchen and started rummaging in his cupboards. "I know I've got chocolate in here somewhere."

Murphy looked over the couch at him. "Wait, are you making hot chocolate from scratch?"

"Sure."

"You know you could just give me money, and I could run to the Starbucks two blocks over, right?"

"This isn't about hot chocolate, Murph. You know that."

"I'm fine, Dresden."

"You refused a candy cane. What kind of holiday spirit is that?"

Murphy pulled one of the blankets on the couch over her legs and watched Dresden break up a bar of chocolate into a small saucepan. "Not everyone has to like the holidays, Dresden."

"I’m not making you like the holidays," Harry said. "It’s not like I could convince you anyway." He looked up and grinned at her before reaching into the fridge for milk. "I just had a good day, and I wanted to share some of that with my friend."

Murphy rested her head on her arms and watched him make the hot chocolate. He hummed under his breath as he stirred. When he looked up and caught her eye, he grinned, and she felt herself grinning back.

The mug, when he handed it to her, was warm on her chilled hands. She watched him poke up the fire before settling on the other end of the couch. She kicked out some of the blanket for his own feet.

"Thanks, Murph," he said.

"Yeah," she replied. "Thanks for the drink."

"My pleasure. Merry Christmas or don't give a damn, Murph."

"Back at you, Dresden."


End file.
